


As Cold as Ice

by AnnaTheHank



Series: A/C/G ot3 [23]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cold, Crowley gets sick, I swear i'm not doing it on purpose, M/M, Multi, crowley's demon form, not the full snake tho, oops i did it again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21825241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaTheHank/pseuds/AnnaTheHank
Summary: Crowley gets sick. Actually sick. The kind of sick that only demons can get. And only an archangel is capable of healing him.Even if it's the last thing he does
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Series: A/C/G ot3 [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1424962
Comments: 10
Kudos: 110





	As Cold as Ice

**Author's Note:**

> I promise I'm not trying to be mean, especially not to my boys. but this idea happened and I had to let it out.  
> I promise I'll go back and do a fluff and a smut chapter on the honeymoon to make up for this I swear it I'm so sorry  
> also why do I keep making Jophiel the one who always had something bad happen to hem idk

Aziraphale had been enjoying the morning. He enjoyed most mornings. They tended to be nice. Especially after nights when Crowley chose to sleep. Because then the mornings were quiet. And Aziraphale could enjoy some tea or cocoa and read his book by the early morning light and just enjoy the peace. 

But it was long past the time that Crowley usually woke up. Aziraphale looked at his watch, noting that it had been quite some time since he expected Crowley to be walking down the stairs to come bother him. He frowned and looked up to where the bedroom was above him. Sometimes Crowley did still like to sleep for a few days. But he usually mentioned that.

Aziraphale put his book down and decided to check on him. Just in case. He knew, objectively, that they were safe in the bookshop. But it didn’t stop the shake in his legs as he carried himself up to the bedroom.

He opened the door and peeked in. Crowley was in the bed, buried under the blankets. Anthony Jr. was not above him, so he was probably curled around it. Aziraphale smiled. No need to disturb him yet. He’ll come back in a few hours if he’s still not up. Maybe he just forgot to mention he was going to have a nap.

Aziraphale nodded with his decision and turned to leave. Only he stopped. Because he noticed something odd. The blankets were moving. More like trembling. Shaking from whatever was under there. And Crowley was under there.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, creeping closer. “Dear? Are you alright?”

Crowley didn’t respond but Aziraphale could _hear_ something. Like a hissing but with more...vibration. He gingerly reached out, noticing how there were five blankets on top of Crowley. More than usual. When he pulled them back he was met with a blast of chilly air and a very demonic screech.

Aziraphale jumped but he had to keep looking. He couldn’t be frightened away from checking on him. And what a state he was in. Crowley was currently in the fetal position, reeling away from where Aziraphale held the blankets up. There was no human in his wide, yellow eyes, and scales had sprouted up over his skin. Anthony Jr was with him, but he was torn to shreds. As were all of their pillows. The stuffing of which had been shoved down Crowley’s shirt, puffing it out and struggling to stay contained.

“Oh darling,” Aziraphale whispered, cooed really. He was afraid, obviously. But he had a feeling him freaking out and panicking while Crowley was in such a...fragile (?) state would not help. “What’s wrong?” 

He leaned over then reached out to Crowley with one hand. At first, Crowley recoiled. But as the hand got closer he stared at it. Then he pressed his head against it. He was positively frozen, Aziraphale starting to shiver at the simple contact. Then Crowley was grabbing his arm with taloned claws, pulling him under the blankets. Aziraphale remained still as he let Crowley maneuver him. He ended up on his side. Crowley ripped his shirt open and were Aziraphale not terribly worried about him he would have said something. 

But Crowley snuggled up and pressed himself against Aziraphale’s skin and he was just so _cold_. “Oh my darling,” Aziraphale said. He wrapped his arms around Crowley, the squish of the stuffing between them comforting. “You’re freezing up.”

Crowley screeched again, softer, and tightened his hold on Aziraphale. Crowley’s body shivered and his teeth chattered. Aziraphale ran his hands over the scales, each of them like a hard, frozen cube of ice. “Don’t worry, dear,” Aziraphale whispered as Crowley placed a cold nose to his neck. “I’ll get you warm.”

With the snap of his fingers they were no longer under blankets. They were in a room that should be hot. A room that had three roaring fireplaces, no less than seven space heaters, eighteen heating lamps, and padded walls that helped keep it all in. But the space around Aziraphale was still cold, and Crowley continued to shiver next to him. It was as if the heat got close and then decided it didn’t want to deal with all that and then turned away.

Crowley screeched and curled himself closer to Aziraphale. There was a crack of raw, unbound power in the air as what Aziraphale could only assume was every blanket in existence fell on top of them. Doing nothing to change temperature of Crowley or the space around him. Aziraphale frowned and shivered himself. He worried and he fretted but he couldn’t show it because he had to be strong. To figure out what was wrong. So he closed his eyes and called for help.

-

Gabriel had expected something not like this. Had it not been for the worrying shake in Aziraphale’s call, he would have assumed Crowley was lying, faking being sick for attention. He wasn’t expecting much, probably just Crowley with a cold who needed some soup (as Aziraphale told him humans did). He wasn’t expecting to show up to a room that was trying to bake him before a pile of blankets about three feet thick.

“Aziraphale?” he called out. He was starting to sweat already and he almost took off his jacket.

“Under here,” Aziraphale said. His voice with that similar shake to it.

Gabriel got down on his knees and lifted a corner of the blankets, not easily. There was a demonic screech of pure terror that had Gabriel crawling under in a heartbeat, ready to tear away whatever was attacking Aziraphale.

But it was just Crowley. Crowley who had scales and claws and yellow eyes. Crowley who was shivering and shaking and who had a cold air around him. Gabriel crawled closer, looking for some relief from the heat.

“Hello,” Aziraphale said, a nervous chuckle in his voice. “I’m afraid there’s something wrong.” He gestured his head down to Crowley. “But I’m not sure what.”

Gabriel crawled his way over, the blankets a heavy presence against his head. As he got closer, Crowley’s head snapped around, turning with a demonic crack. Gabriel froze. If Crowley was truly in some sort of state, there was a lot of danger to be had here. But Crowley shivered and turned, grabbing Gabriel’s arms and pulling him down. 

Gabriel landed on top of Crowley, and by extension half on top of Aziraphale. And then Crowley was ripping Gabriel’s shirt open and pressing his face to him, an onslaught of pure cold assaulting his body.

“Do you see?” Aziraphale said. “There’s something wrong with him.”

“I do see,” Gabriel said. “Rather. I feel.” He shifted, pulling one arm out and running his fingers over the scales and skin on Crowley’s body.

“What do you suppose could be the problem?” Aziraphale asked. It was dark under the blankets but he could see the worry and pain clear on Aziraphale’s face. 

“I’m not sure but...If I had to hazard a guess…” he looked back down at the shivering demon under him. He didn’t want to suggest it. Even if it made the most sense. Because the solution was too painful to think about.

“Yes?” Aziraphale asked. He reached out, his hand cold against Gabriel’s arm. 

“Well. Do you remember, a few centuries ago, when Jophiel was out in Egypt?” Aziraphale nodded, his face a little furrowed at what Gabriel was getting at. “Well, they got that fever, remember?”

“Oh yes,” Aziraphale said. “Rather serious that. They had to be taken back to heaven for a few days to recover. Been away too long.” The connection angels had to heaven was rather important. And being away from heaven for too long could cause all kinds of damage to human vessels. Left unattended, the need to return would cause the body to heat up, to the point it couldn’t survive, forcing a discorporation to get the soul back where it belonged.

Gabriel nodded and looked pointedly at Crowley.

“Oh no! It couldn't be!” Aziraphale shouted. Crowley hissed. “He hasn’t been gone that long! Surely it has to be something else.”

“Nothing that I can tell,” Gabriel said. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. His body is freezing in an attempt to force his soul out.”

“But...but...we can’t take him down there!” Aziraphale said. 

“Certainly not,” Gabriel agreed. He wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t just some scheme of the demons to get their revenge at Crowley. Taking him down there, especially in a state where he couldn’t defend himself, was as good as killing him.

“So what do we do? We can’t just let him freeze to death!”

“I have a plan,” Gabriel said. It wasn’t a plan he was entirely eager to go through with. It was rather dangerous. But Aziraphale was crying. And Crowley was dying. And really, what kind of a husband would he be if he let either of those things happen?

Gabriel sat up, waving the blankets away because they would simply get in the way. Crowley screeched that same demonic note from before, but Gabriel just cradled him to his chest and adjusted his seat to be more comfortable. 

“What’s the plan?” Aziraphale asked. He knelt before them, hands still on Crowley’s body. “I want to help.”

“Just, make sure he’s comfortable,” Gabriel said. There was nothing Aziraphale could do for this bit. It was something for an Archangel.

Gabriel closed his eyes and focused his attention and energy inward. It was a bit difficult, pulling out his energy core. But it had to be done. Crowley needed the intense heat of Hell inside him and only Gabriel could give it to him.

“Gabriel, no,” he heard Aziraphale whisper. 

But it was too late. And even if it hadn’t been, Gabriel wouldn’t stop. No. He had a chance to survive this, but Crowley would certainly not survive freezing. So it was really the only thing to do. 

His skin glowed. He could feel it flake away, the intensity of his true energy too much for this human body. The force and power of him filled the air, even the air around Crowley. And then it was in Crowley, a guided effort on Gabriel’s part to force his energy into him. A heat began to form inside Crowley’s body, a heat shared between the two of them.

Electricity sparked through the air and Aziraphale had to duck to avoid a few stray bolts. But the majority of them grounded on Crowley, striking at his scales with precision until they were melting back into his skin. 

The screech that Crowley made wasn’t even animal. It was archaic. And Aziraphale had to hold him down as the demon squirmed and thrashed in Gabriel’s embrace. And Gabriel was thankful for his help. For as his being was pulsating warmth through Crowley’s body, it was also sapping away his own strength, leaving his arms weak and barely able to hold on.

“Gabriel,” he heard Aziraphale whisper, even over the rush of blood in his ears. “Please. Stop. That’s enough.”

But it wasn’t enough. Crowley was still cold. He was no longer thrashing about but he did still shiver. Maybe he could get back to a normal temperature on his own from there, but Gabriel couldn’t be sure. So he pushed a bit more of his energy out.

And then everything was gone.

-

Crowley hissed, pulling his finger back and sucking on it a little, blood pooling in his mouth. He glared at the offending needle that had poked him. Yes, Aziraphale had told him to use a thimble, no he wasn’t going to listen. A drop of blood had fallen on the piece of black fabric in his lap. It wasn’t terribly noticeable. Just a dark stain.

Crowley kept the finger in his mouth as he looked over his work. Half of Anthony Jr. was put in place. He had stitched all the little pieces back together. Aziraphale told him he should just miracle it back together but that wasn’t the point. 

It wasn’t the point, Crowley reminded himself as he shook his hand and went back to work. A pile of fluff sat next to him, waiting to fill the snake once again. He had done this. He had woken up cold and alone and he...he wasn’t thinking. He had just known that the plush he was cuddling was filled with warmth so he had clawed it and the pillows open in a desperate, futile attempt to be warm. 

He had destroyed the prize that Gabriel had won for him, and he’d be damned if he didn’t put it back together himself. Well. He was pretty damned either way but he’d be more damned.

Crowley put his project down and stretched his arms. He looked over the back of the couch to the bedroom door. Aziraphale hadn’t come out for a while now. Crowley shivered, not of cold, and went downstairs. He put together a tray of fruits, cheese, and wine and carried it up, gentle as he pushed the door open.

“Angel?” he asked. “You alright?”

Aziraphale was sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard. Gabriel was resting against the pillows, his wings spread out. Aziraphale had one in his lap and was absentmindedly stroking it. When Crowley shuffled in, closing the door behind him, Aziraphale startled and looked at him.

“Sorry, dear,” he said. He gulped, but the worry and pain was still clear in his voice. “What was that?”

Crowley just tried to smile at him. “Here. I’ve brought some reinforcements, hm?” He walked over and set the tray on the table next to the bed before sitting on the edge of the mattress.

Aziraphale looked over at it and smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “That was rather kind.” But he didn’t move to grab a drink or even any of the fruit that Crowley had thoughtfully arranged for him.

And it worried Crowley. Because all of this was his fault in the first place. It was his fault that Aziraphale had gotten so worried about him he called Gabriel. His fault that Gabriel had to nearly kill himself to save Crowley. (And maybe had. They really weren’t sure yet). And it was his fault that Aziraphale had gone through cycles of crying to being so painfully numb. And if he wasn’t absolutely sure it would break that last string holding Aziraphale together, Crowley might have just left.

Instead he shuffled further up the bed and placed one of his hands over Azirpahale’s, the feather’s of Gabriel’s wings a little stiff from Azirpahale’s bothering of them. “Hey,” Crowley whispered. As much as he hated it, he preferred when Aziraphale was crying. At least then he felt like he could do something. 

“I am sorry,” Aziraphale said. He moved his other hand on top of Crowley’s with a soft smile. “I haven’t been exactly attentive to you have I?”

“Fuck how I feel, Aziraphale,” Crowley said. “How are you?”

“Oh. I’m alright.” Aziraphale’s jaw quivered and he picked at Crowley’s hand. 

“Please, Aziraphale. Just talk to me. Anything that’s on your mind. Whatever it is you’re thinking about just tell me. Even if it’s that you hate me, I don’t mind just tell me.”

Aziraphale’s face seemed to shift, his eyebrows furrowing and the light returning to his eyes. “Darling? Whatever would give you the impression I hate you?”

Crowley crawled up, settling on the bed next to Aziraphale, lifting Gabriel’s wing so it rested on his lap as well. “‘S my fault,” he said. 

“No,” Aziraphale said, his voice harsh. “Don’t you dare.”

“But it is, Aziraphale. I got sick and because of that Gabriel did...whatever the fuck he did.” Crowley sighed and leaned his head against Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale had tried to explain it to him but Crowley didn’t really get it. It had something to do with the way angel souls were put in human bodies in the first place. 

Crowley figured that if that was true, maybe Gabriel was just inside him somewhere. They had tried any number of things to find him or put him back, but it didn’t seem like that was what happened. Or if it was, then it didn’t seem like something they could reverse.

“Darling,” Aziraphale whispered. He leaned his head against Crowley’s, moving a hand over to cover Crowley’s on the wing. “I can’t express how important it is to me that you understand this is not your fault.”

Crowley screwed his eyes shut. He knew, objectively, that Aziraphale was right. It wasn’t like he had _chosen_ to get sick. He just had. When he shouldn’t. And that was something they were going to have to figure out later. 

Aziraphale turned his head and kissed the top of Crowley’s. “Please tell me you understand that.”

“I understand it,” Crowley mumbled. “Just don’t feel it.”

Aziraphale nodded. “I’m sorry I’ve been so despondent, dear.”

“No,” Crowley said. “There’s nothing to apologize for, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale hummed. “Perhaps you’re right. But it’s still no reason to ignore you, my dear. And I am so dreadfully sorry.”

“It’s alright, angel.” Crowley nuzzled his head closer, glancing over at Gabriel. “You’ve had a lot to worry about.”

Gabriel had not moved an inch since he did whatever he did. Back when he had been attacked by the fire he was at least breathing. He would twitch occasionally too. But now he was completely still. No breath. No twitch. No nothing. He was, by all accounts, dead. If it wasn’t for the slight warmth of his skin when they touched it, Aziraphale and Crowley would have no hope.

“I suppose I’m just tired,” Aziraphale whispered. 

“Take a nap,” Crowley suggested. He sat up and leaned back against the headboard, looking down at Aziraphale. “I’ll take over watch duty.”

“No,” Aziraphale said, his voice still soft. He shook his head. “Not like that.” He was quiet for a moment, looking down at the wing in their laps. Crowley gently nudged him, urging him to go on. “I suppose I’m just tired of everything going wrong.”

Aziraphale sat up too, his hands leaving Gabriel’s wings to bother themselves. 

“I just…” he sighed. “I thought that, ideally...well I had rather hoped that once everything was done, the whole, end of the world thing. Once it was over, it would be easier. I mean, I knew it wasn’t going to be _easy_ but...It just feels like everything’s gotten worse. I mean, so much has happened in, what? A year? It’s like we had some moments of peace and then...everything just keeps falling apart.”

Aziraphale had started to cry again and Crowley shivered. He hated seeing Aziraphale cry. Neither of them noticed the pair of dull grey eyes that was staring at them. 

“I know,” Crowley said. “But we always fix it in the end, don’t we? Nothing bad lasts forever, yeah?”

Aziraphale nodded and leaned his head on Crowley’s shoulder, his hands back on Gabriel’s wing. “I suppose,” he said. “I’m just getting tired of having to fix everything.”

Crowley went to tell him how much he understood that. How he, too, was a little tired of everything going wrong, of heaven and hell each trying some new thing every few weeks to mess shit up. But before he could say anything there was a crack of thunder followed by the fluttering of wings and the bed was missing one body, their laps cold as Gabriel’s wing disappeared.

Aziraphale startled, getting to his knees and staring at the spot where Gabriel had been lying. “What...what happened?” He gasped. “They took him!”

“They can’t have,” Crowley reminded him. He got up on his own knees and placed his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders. 

“But then…” Aziraphale sighed, his eyes closing as he wiped his face dry. “I think I will take that nap.”

Crowley blinked in surprise. It wasn’t like his angel to give up like that. To sleep away his worries and ignore his problems. That was Crowley’s job. “Are you sure?”

“I’m just _tired_ ,” Aziraphale said, his voice sounding every bit of it. “I’m sorry, dear. I know we should go find him but I just...no. No.” Aziraphale took a deep breath and opened his eyes, shaking his head. “Let’s go find him.”

Crowley cracked a smile. He knew that asking Aziraphale to not care about him or Gabriel was ridiculous. Aziraphale would worry himself sick and work himself to death to keep them safe and comfortable. But he really did need a break from everything.

“Tell ya what,” Crowley said. “Why don’t you stay here and recover a bit, in case he comes back, hm? I’ll go take a spin around the Earth and see if I can’t find him, okay?”

“Oh, but he’s probably in-”

“And if he is,” Crowley said, “I’ll come back and we can go get him after you’ve rested a bit. No need to go up there with you less than a hundred percent if he’s down here somewhere.”

Aziraphale gave him a look, but nodded. “Very well. But do be quick, darling.”

Crowley leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Quick as can be. And you get some rest.”

-

Gabriel was, of course, in heaven. But Aziraphale deserved his rest so Crowley snuck his way up. Which turned out to be easier than he anticipated. Really. With how slack the security was up here, Crowley wasn’t surprised Hell had invaded. They probably didn’t even need to get help. Could just walk on up as he had. 

The hallways of heaven were mostly empty. Crowley hid around corners whenever one of the angels wandered about. And he kept slinking around until he found the one angel he had been searching for.

“Hey,” he said, stepping out of the corner and walking right up to Gabriel.

Gabriel’s eyes, still grey but a bit bright, opened wide. He glanced around the hall then grabbed Crowley’s arm, pulling him into a small room that resembled a storage closet. He pushed Crowley against one of the shelves and hissed, “What are you doing here?”

“Could ask you the same thing,” Crowley said, pushing him off. “I’m not the one that left suddenly after being dead for a few days.”

“I wasn’t dead,” Gabriel corrected him.

“Clearly.” Crowley crossed his arms and stared at Gabriel, waiting for an explanation.

“Why are you up here?” Gabriel repeated. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Crowley gestured at him. “I’m here to get you.” He desperately wanted to talk about what had happened when he was sick. About what Gabriel had done for him. But this was not the time nor place. 

“I appreciate the effort,” Gabriel said. He looked to the side. “But I’m not coming back.”

Crowley groaned and leaned his head back against the shelf. He didn’t want to be mean. But Gabriel really needed to just fucking understand it all. “You can’t just leave because one bad thing happened. Sorry you had to nearly die to save my ass but it’s not like it’s going to happen again.”

Gabriel shook his head, looking over at Crowley. Almost shy. “I _would_ die to save you,” he whispered. 

Crowley swallowed the lump in his throat. “So then why the fuck did you leave?”

Gabriel took a steadying breath and straightened back up, finally looking Crowley head-on. “I keep getting you and Aziraphale in situations where your death is possible. Ever since I’ve been a part of your lives, they’ve been worse.”

“You think our lives are worse because you're here? They're not. They're better," he shoved against Gabriel's chest, "in every way possible. Our lives are still ours because of you, you idiot."

"But-"

"Shit is going to happen to us no matter what! That's just because of who we are. Can't avoid it. But you being there makes the shit easier to deal with and not so shitty!"

"Crowl-"

"I mean, really! Let's go through the list, shall we? Hastur kidnaps us. Anything to do with you? No! Would we have been able to escape without you? Yeah probably! But not as soon or easily!"

"Yes, I -"

"Number two!" Crowley was starting to pace now, back and forth across the little room. "Hell invades heaven! An easy feat, actually. Did you nearly getting yourself killed and showing up at the shop get me captured? Sure! But was it not Aziraphale's love and trust in you that got him up there to save me and everyone else in the first place!"

"Listen-"

"Thirdly! Second Anti Christ is made! You really think our lives would be better if you _hadn't_ gone down to hell trumpets a blazing to stop it? Of course not!"

Gabriel sighed and folded his hands before his lap, waiting patiently for Crowley to finish.

"And let's not forget the most recent turn of events! What do you suppose would have happened had you not been there? Hm? You think I'd be alive? Hell no! Either I'd freeze to death while Aziraphale sat and watched, or he'd be dumb enough to figure it out and try to take me down to hell where we'd both be killed!"

Gabriel blinked. "Are you done?"

Crowley came to a still before him, face flushed, breath hard, hands on his hips. "I don't know. Are you done being stupid yet?"

Gabriel reached out and touched over Crowley's arms. Not quite grabbing them. He looked at them as he spoke. "I have saved you," he agreed. "And you two have saved me. But that's all it is."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"I can't come to you unless something is wrong. And you don't come to me unless the same is true."

"That's what people in a relationship do, numbskull! They reach out to each other in times of need!"

"But they also reach out for other things. Happy things. I want to be more than just your bodyguard, Crowley."

"We do fun things together," Crowley said, looking thoroughly offended.

"Scheduled," Gabriel explained. "I want...I just wish we could have spur of the moment time together that wasn't always based in danger."

Crowley's mouth opened, then closed. He nodded. "Yeah. No, I get that." He reached up to scratch the back of his neck, Gabriel's hands falling away. "We always figure you're too busy up here you know." He looked away. Almost sheepish. "Don't want to bother you and all."

"I don't mind being bothered by you two. As long as I'm not doing anything important, I'd love to go anywhere with you."

Crowley smirked at him. "You once thought everything heaven was important."

"I guess I'm changing my priorities." They shared a sweet smile together. "I am sorry for leaving so suddenly."

"Hey," Crowley patted his arm. "I'm not the one you freaked out by doing so."

Gabriel nodded, a bile of guilt rising in his throat.

"C'mon then. Get me out of here before someone finds me and murders me."

Gabriel wrapped his arms and Crowley and looked down at him. "They wouldn't dare."

-

“Crowley, I’m not sure I can do this,” Gabriel whispered.

Crowley smiled and patted Gabriel on the back. They were standing above the bed, looking down at Aziraphale. He was asleep. He hadn’t woken when Crowley and Gabriel entered the room, and his breath was soft, his eyes twitching a bit as he dreamed. 

“You’ll do fine,” Crowley said. 

“I hurt him.”

“Yep.”

Gabriel frowned and fought the strange pressure building in his chest that made his eyes sting. He knew Crowley had been right. The three of them did have a good time together. And their relationship had saved all of them at least once. But there was still the gripping truth that told Gabriel their lives would still be better without him. He didn’t know things like they did. He still didn’t know how to be in a relationship. 

He was selfish. He ran away when they needed him. He leaves when they ask him to stay. He does things he thinks are right that they know are wrong and he never seems to learn the difference. He wasn’t fit for this, and they deserved better.

Crowley gave him a little shove and he stepped up to the edge of the bed. “Aziraphale,” he said, softly, hoping he wouldn’t hear him.

But of course, he did. Aziraphale’s eyes opened slowly, blinking up at Gabriel. “Gabriel?” he said, his voice slow. Then his eyes opened wide. “Gabriel!” He sat up, rubbing his eyes. 

“Hi,” Gabriel said. He knew there was much more that needed to be said but he couldn’t seem to find the words. He told Crowley he couldn’t do this. 

Gabriel shuffled back to allow Aziraphale the room to sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at him. He seemed to be having a similar trouble with finding what to say. Which was odd because the best thing about Aziraphale was that he always knew what to say. The silence was maddening.

“Where did you go off to?” Aziraphale finally asked.

“Work,” Gabriel answered. Because home wasn’t the right answer. He was home now.

Aziraphale cut a cold glance over to Crowley, who just shrugged. Then Aziraphale patted the bed next to him and Gabriel sat down. Taking his hand, Aziraphale asked, “How are you feeling?”

Gabriel nodded, not looking at him. He couldn’t stand to. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“No,” Aziraphale agreed. “You shouldn’t have.”

“I’m not getting any better at this,” Gabriel said. 

“I wouldn’t say that,” Aziraphale said, giving his hand a squeeze. 

“You just need more confidence,” Crowley agreed. He sauntered over, hands on his hips as he stood before them. “You just need to take that unwavering, stupid certainty that you had in The Great Plan and apply it here.” He gestured between the three of them.

Gabriel stared at him. Because it was starting to make sense. His confidence had cracked. Armageddon did not happen. And he had been personally responsible for stopping the attempted restart. The only thing he had ever believed in, that he had believed in so fully with every bit of his being...was _wrong_. He had been wrong. And now nothing seemed right. Because if he was wrong about that, he could be wrong about anything.

He told them about as much. They both stared at him.

That gripping intensity in his chest was back, and he kept it at bay by clenching his jaw tight. But then Aziraphale’s hand was on that jaw, cupping it and coaxing Gabriel to look over at him. 

“This is right,” Aziraphale assured him. “It’s okay if you don’t know it. Because we do. The three of us together is right.” He always knew what to say.

“Besides,” Crowley said, kicking his foot gently against Gabriel’s shin. “You married us, remember? And I for one ain’t signing any divorce papers.”

Aziraphale’s smile was soft as he agreed. “You’re staying here tonight,” Aziraphale ordered, standing up and smoothing down his clothes. “I’ll make some coffee.”

Gabriel stood and followed them both out to the living room. Aziraphale went downstairs to make the coffee and Gabriel wandered over to the couch with Crowley. He watched as Crowley picked up the half-put together Anothony Jr. to make room for him.

“Here,” Gabriel said, already starting to wave his hand over the toy to fix it.

“No,” Crowley said, nearly shouted. He grabbed Gabriel’s wrist, pulling him as they sat down. “I’m fixing him.”

“But we could simply have it fixed in an instant,” Gabriel said. He watched intently as Crowley re-thread the needle.

“Yeah but I broke it,” he argued. “So I’m gonna fix it.”

Gabriel nodded. Because he understood that sentiment all too well. “Some help, then,” he offered. 

Crowley gave him a look, but eventually agreed on the help, letting Gabriel hold the pieces together as Crowley sewed them. 

It still didn’t feel right. But not in the way that it hadn’t before. Gabriel wasn’t averse to staying so much because Aziraphale was a rogue agent and Crowley was a demon. It had much more to do with the fact that Gabriel was still feeling very lost. At what to do. At who he was. But Aziraphale and Crowley wanted him here. So he resolved to never leave unless prompted by them. 

And he steeled himself for the moment that would happen.

**Author's Note:**

> spoiler alert it never happens cause they love him


End file.
